


The man of mercy

by Anonymous



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Bottom Javert, M/M, Madeleine Era, Madeleine's name is also Jean, Montreuil-sur-Mer, My First Smut, Not really a dub-con since Javert is convinced Madeleine is Valjean?, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Valjean, no betas we die like men, nothing too explicit tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29879409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Javert stood in the office and delivered his weekly report. He did not expect the mayor (the criminal — his mind supplied) to breach one subject, and that was the attention that Javert was paying lately to Madeleine's every move.
Relationships: Javert/Jean Valjean, Javert/Madeleine
Kudos: 14
Collections: Anonymous





	The man of mercy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for all the people in the NSFW section of Lame Miserables. And yes, it's bottom!Javert just for you. Now I will have to write some top!Javert story to keep the balance. >.>

“Monsieur le Maire”

Oh, how these words left a bad taste in his mouth every time he uttered them. To stand before the man was torture, to show respect to someone one knew was an escaped convict… It was hell. 

But Javert bore it well, hid his thoughts beneath the mask of a disinterested inspector and only sometimes his eyes would betray him by watching the man sitting behind the heavy mahogany desk a little too closely.

“Ah, Javert.”

That smile was insufferable. Warm and honest, it contradicted the nature of this man. He knew him to be a brute, he witnessed his strength more than once back in Toulon. Under the veneer of respectability there was a beast, under the name of Jean Madeleine there was prisoner 24601. 

But for now they were here, the officer of the law and his superior who prefered to smile rather than talk and not interact at all rather than smile. And yet Madeleine could not escape these meetings any more than he could escape the role he decided to play.

“My weekly report, monsieur.”

Val- no, _the mayor_ waved his hand, bidding him to start and recount the events of the past week. Javert’s eyes focused for a moment on that hand. 

It was decidedly not a hand of a magistrate. Large and calloused fingers were far more suited for handling heavy objects rather than quill and paper, they were not made to gently hold but to grip, to squeeze and-

A shiver ran down his spine as his thoughts started to stray further. No, he had a report to give, there was no reason for him to think too much about this wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing.

The inspector’s voice was steady as he enumerated various arrests made this week and pointed out some things that could use improvement. After all, it would not do if the people of Montreuil-sur-Mer felt that the law was not to be obeyed since they had the mayor’s mercy to protect them. Javert’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Mercy from the criminal was no mercy at all.

“That would be all.”

Standing there, straight as a pole, Javert cut an intimidating figure and yet it seemed to have no effect on Madeleine, so assured was the man of his position. The worst thing was that he was right. Whatever order he gave, Javert would be obliged to obey, no matter how grudgingly. 

His fingers twitched slightly as he watched the man and waited for the dismissal. It should come any moment now and yet Madeleine was staring at him, something unknown behind his eyes, his brows furrowed. It was perhaps the first time that Javert could see the mayor so deep in thought, pensive, almost. What was he thinking? 

“Javert, there is another matter I would like to discuss with you.”

Still standing at attention, he shifted his weight, not knowing what was supposed to be the topic of their conversation. Oh, there were things that Javert would like to discuss, words he wanted to say. How would Madeleine react if he called him by his true name? What would he do if he brought him to his knees, clamped the manacles on his wrists once again? 

Something stirred in Javert at this thought, something he did not want to think about lest the thought led to an inner rebellion.

“Monsieur, I’m at your service.”

There was almost an imperceptible twitch in Madeleine’s face at that proclamation. For a few seconds, there was silence in the office, interrupted only by the muffled voices from outside. Finally, Madeleine’s eyes settled on him and something in the air shifted.

“I have noticed that you’ve been… Very diligent in observing me as of late. I would like to know whether I have done something to warrant such attention.”

Unable to stop himself or perhaps wanting to speak on equal footing, Madeleine stood up but stayed behind the desk as if it was the last barrier of safety between them. Javert’s nostrils flared. No, the man was safe from him (for now) but it was not the desk that protected him but the office he held. Javert's instincts screamed at him to arrest that fraud but he remained impotent in his rage. He set his jaw but forced himself to remain calm.

“Monsieur?”

The inspector didn’t know how to explain himself. He didn’t want to, _he shouldn’t have to_. Madeleine finally came out of his hiding place from behind the desk and approached him, standing… Close. Closer than was necessary, too close for Javert’s comfort. 

He could see now, very clearly, the waistcoat tightly hugging Madeleine’s form, almost obscenely accentuating the muscles shifting underneath. He saw his arms, capable of nearly impossible feats of strength, the strong legs, the eyes which were looking at him with something dark lurking behind them. Unwillingly, he felt his blood travelling south. It was too much, the proximity, the heat, the implications…

“I am not an unkind man, Javert.”

Was it his imagination or did Madeleine’s voice get deeper for some reason? It was almost as deep as the voice of one prisoner from Toulon but that voice was self-assured, not hoarse and angry. 

“But even I do not appreciate being followed like some criminal.”

Javert wanted to bark “but you are one”, wanted to look at the man with nothing but contempt… But where the chains once bound Valjean and made him a galley-slave they now bound Javert into being obedient and apologetic in the face of his superior's rebuke.

“My deepest apologies, monsieur. I did not mean to offend.”

His bow was stiff and not deep enough for the man of Madeleine's station but if he deepened it then his face would be too close to Madeleine’s. He flinched when suddenly the mayor’s hand found itself on his chest, the calloused fingers fiddling with one button of his uniform. 

“I am afraid that a simple apology doesn’t quite cut it.”

Before he knew what was happening he felt himself being shifted, their positions suddenly reversed and he almost groaned when he was pressed against that unyielding, hard desk. He didn’t manage to say anything — a second later the mayor’s mouth assaulted his own and he found himself fighting for dominance in a kiss that was full of savagery.  
Something in him stirred once again and he found himself growing hard. _Yes_ , he wanted to say, _prove me right. Show me that you’re nothing more than a brute, no better than the convict I remember._

There was no gentleness in what they were doing, no tenderness or affection. Javert’s hands fumbled with the mayor’s coat, clumsily getting it out of the way, throwing it to the floor. The buttons of Madeleine’s waistcoat were next. Javert acted with single-mindedness, he was like a dog on a hunt, he knew where the prize was hidden, he wanted to get to this place, see the black ink with his own eyes. 

Quickly he found himself unable to do so. In one smooth motion, Javert found his hands held tightly behind his back in a grasp that bordered on painful (he was sure that tomorrow there will be bruises), a slight growl coming from Madeleine's side. 

“You should be taught… To respect your superiors, inspector.”

The man was panting, his eyes were two, black tunnels, his mouth red and swollen from the kiss. His other hand efficiently disposed of Javert’s collar and moved the shirt so that he had access to his neck. He wasted no time, assaulting the tender skin, biting and sucking as Javert shivered beneath him.

“You should learn how to obey. So now, _inspector_ , I trust you to keep your hands on the desk.”

Javert could not think, could do nothing _but_ obey because he did not trust himself to act. The things they were doing, they should not be happening. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more, from wanting to feel those hands on his skin. He failed at stifling the groan that escaped his lips. This was heaven. This was hell.

Apparently, Madeleine felt no need for further nudity, opting instead for taking off Javert’s trousers in two, forceful tugs. A silent whine came from Javert’s mouth as he felt the coarse material scratching his already hard cock. 

His grip on the desk was painful, his knuckles white from the strength of his hold. Madeleine’s hand settled on his hip, slowly creeping lower but never where Javert needed it the most. 

“Anything to say, inspector?”

The mayor’s voice was dark with lust, his eyes pinning him to the desk more effectively than his body. 

“Monsieur-” he hated himself for the pleading note in his voice.

“I’m afraid you will have to be more specific, inspector.”

“Monsieur, I… Please… Please-”

A brief smile appeared on Madeleine’s face, a bitter one. But soon it meant nothing as the calloused fingers grabbed his erection and _pulled_. A long, drawn-out groan escaped Javert’s lips but he needn’t worry — Madeleine silenced him soon enough with another bruising kiss. Soon he felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the mayor, as if sensing that, once again moved to kiss his neck.

“Am I not a good man? A merciful one?”

“Yes, monsieur. Yes...”

Javert arched more, ignoring the sharp pain in his back as the wood started to uncomfortably dig into his back. It did not matter, the pain was good. The pain kept him grounded and aroused him more than it should, the rhythmic movement of Madeleine’s hand, on the other hand, made it hard to think about anything. Why was he allowing that? He knew there was no Monsieur le Maire here, there was only a criminal called Jean Valjean. That thought made him shiver.

Madeleine was now muttering under his breath, too lost in his own pleasure to pay attention. Javert could hear only bits and pieces. He spoke of Javert's eyes following him and how he knew what that meant. He muttered about mercy, about forgiveness (was he asking for one or lecturing Javert, he did not know), apologising to God for wanting this because… Javert gasped, feeling Madeleine’s own erection pressing into his side with great urgency. Good God, they both wanted this. The mayor and his inspector, the jailer and his prisoner.

He felt like he was on the brink, just one more push, one more squeeze and he would be there, among the stars. The sound of Madeleine’s own moans and rapid breathing made it impossible to focus on anything. The strength of the hold, the taste of salt from his own sweat (or was it the seawater in Toulon?), the fantasies mixing with reality… Ultimately, it proved to be too much.

“Jean!”

With that one, desperate moan he came all over the mayor’s hand, panting, completely spent. And if, when saying that, he thought about different Jean than Madeleine, well… That was his shame to bear. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut ever so, please, be merciful (hah). Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
